A Definite Bet
by microgirl
Summary: Love: a temporary insanity, curable by marriage...GSR
1. Chapter 1

_A Definite Bet_

_Chapter 1_

_Love: a temporary insanity, curable by marriage. Ambrose Bierce _

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone in regards to CSI; the show and its characters belong to a bunch of people who aren't me. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement. Dance puppets, dance._

_Author's Note: As I've told some of you, this is a companion piece to my first story "Remembering Forward." It's not necessary to read it for this fic, but you are more than welcome to read it…and review ;)_

_As usual, thank you to my awesomely, cool and extremely helpful betas, EllipsesBandit and CSINut 214. What can I say? They  
rock.  
_

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The sun barely peeked over the western horizon before disappearing for the night. The overbearing heat of the Las Vegas day transformed into a refreshingly cool evening. Many cars were parked outside a small, classy hotel off the Strip.

Inside, beautiful ocean landscapes adorned the white walls of the lobby. Plush chairs and love seats surrounded small coffee tables; ideal spots for intimate conversations. A doorway leading to the bar stood to the left, and off to the right, past the check-in desk, was a hallway that led to an atrium.

Several rows of dark wood chairs with white seat cushions filled the room. A wide strip of red carpet led to a podium, where arrangements of cream and maroon colored roses stood on either side. A panorama of stars gleamed outside the skylights. In the atrium, lab technicians, detectives, and other friends clustered, chatting …

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"So how'd ya like the other night?" Sam Vega asked, clasping his hand on the other man's shoulder.

Vartann shook his head. "I should've just emptied my wallet right there on the table. Saved me the embarrassment."

"What happened?" said Sofia as she stood next to Vega.

Vartann replied, "Oh, a bunch of us got together to play poker with Grissom; Me, Sam, Brass, Warrick, Nick, and Greg."

"So what…Grissom cleaned you out?"

"He cleaned everyone out."

"Hey speak for yourself," Vega began, pointing to the tall detective. "I stopped after I lost forty. The rest of you kept goin'."

"How much did you lose?"

Vartann snorted. "More than I care to admit."

"But not as much as Sanders," Vega added.

"No, I definitely didn't lose as much as Sanders."

"Well, how much did Grissom win?" Sofia asked.

"He walked away with a _significant _chunk of money. I wonder what he did with it," Vega pondered.

"Who knows?" Vartann said, shaking his head again. "What I want to know," his voice laced with frustration, "is how in the hell is it possible for him to get two royal flushes in one night."

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"How long have you known Grissom?" said Jacqui.

"Several years now," Valerie began. "He's been coming to the butterfly pavilion for a while."

"I bet he's there a lot," laughed Wendy.

"About four or five times a week. Always asking about new exhibits or seeing what could buy from us. He's even talked to school groups about tarantulas."

"Grissom with kids…" Jacqui raised her eyebrows. "There's a thought."

Valerie smiled at the comment. "It's true; the kids love him. Then his visits dwindled. I only saw him maybe two, three times a week. I was happy to see a girl was distracting him, and that he hadn't found another bug source."

Judy walked quickly to the group of women. "You will never believe who just walked in here?"

"Who?" said Wendy, leaning closer to hear the gossip.

"Conrad Ecklie."

Jacqui gasped. "No way."

"He's sitting in the back row on the left side," she pointed to the section. The four women turned to see him quietly observing the room, not talking to anyone.

"What's the big deal with Conrad Ecklie being here? Isn't he the assistant director of the crime lab?" questioned Valerie.

"He put Sara and Grissom through hell when they told him they were together," Judy said. "The three of them were in closed door meeting for an hour. Grissom and Sara were livid when they walked out."

"And then Ecklie pulls all the techs together, and tells to do performance evaluations on them. Wanted to make sure they didn't act inappropriately and he wasn't giving her special treatment. They weren't even working cases together and it's not like they were making out at the lab. You couldn't even tell they were together," said Wendy.

Valerie's eyebrows came together. "You're kidding?"

"Nope," Jacqui shook her head. "He also told Nick, Catherine, Warrick, and Greg to do the same thing. Only the kicker was Sara and Grissom didn't know about the evaluations. And nobody knew they didn't know. When the team found that out, they were pissed. Nick told Ecklie it was sneaky and rude to undermine the staff like that. Catherine threatened to go to the head director with his behavior. After that, things calmed down, except Ecklie slowing paper work for the team like evaluations that would give them raises. And he kept sending Grissom stupid memos about professional behavior seminars."

"Why is he here then?" Valerie said, gesturing to where the man sat. "I can't imagine they'd invite him."

"Who knows?" said Wendy.

"I bet he's going to object during the ceremony," Judy told the group.

Jacqui looked to the back section. "He better not."

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"C'mon Henry. You've been stalling. What's your bet?" demanded Hodges.

"Six months, because she cheats on him with a cop," answered Henry Andrews, a new lab tech. A few bills were placed in Hodges' hand.

David Phillips stood a few feet from the men, talking to his wife, Rachel. He shook his head, and let out a disgusted sigh as he overheard the conversation.

"What about you, Archie?"

The young man thought for a moment, before giving Hodges some money. "Three years because he's seeing someone younger than her."

"If Grissom goes any younger, he'll be looking at high school girls," the trace analyst said.

Rachel gently rubbed David's arm after he sighed again. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, well what's your bet?" Henry asked.

"Three months because she finally finds out about his long standing affair with the dominatrix," Hodges proudly stated, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You think he's sleeping with that woman?" said Archie.

"How could he not be? Have you seen her?"

"Wait a sec. When have you seen this infamous Lady Heather?" asked Henry.

"I vis-, look it doesn't matter. Everyone knows he has a thing for her. And what matters is this marriage is a joke and someone will collect big bucks when they get divorced," stated Hodges. He noticed the brunette coroner and his wife beginning to walk away. "Speaking of jokes," he said under his breath. "Phillips! Care to join us?"

David stared at Hodges for moment, as if debating his options. Rachel murmured a few words to her husband to which he quietly answered "I know." She left to find their seats, while he joined the men. "What do you want?"

Hodges tried to sound innocent. "Oh nothing. Just wondering if you were feeling a bit jealous of Grissom and his dear, sweet Sara."

David furrowed his eyebrows, both in confusion and irritation. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Because they get to have their wedding here in this nice hotel and the reception in a very expensive restaurant, while you," Hodges said, not disguising the laughter, "had your wedding in Dr. Robbins' backyard." Archie and Henry snickered.

David opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it. He started to turn around and leave, when Hodges grabbed his arm.

"Now, now David. No need to get huffy. I don't think the bride and groom would appreciate your resentment. I do have a serious question for you though."

"What?" He angrily asked.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Hodges sarcastically replied. "I thought you might want to make some money in a bet."

"What kind of bet?"

"How long do think Grissom's and Sara's _fairytale_," he said the word with distain, "love story will last?"

David pulled his wallet out of his pocket, and extracted a twenty-dollar bill. "Forever." He slapped the money in Hodges' palm, and stalked away.

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"So you're going to be writing a book on Gil and Sara's relationship?" laughed Al Robbins. "Do they know you're doing this?"

"The book is more about relationships at work; I'm just using them as one of my examples, but I've got lots of sources," Lauren answered.

"Do you have a title?"

"The Geek's Guide to Romance in the Workplace."

"I like it," Robbins nodded his head in approval. "What kind of things are you going to write about?"

"Finding loopholes in company policies that forbid dating your co-workers; how to maintain a good working relationship; when to tell your colleagues you're seeing someone. There's a lot I want include," she replied.

"Sounds great. I'll be looking for it when it comes out." There was a brief pause. "I still think it's funny Sara knows a writer. I thought all her friends would be in forensics."

She smiled knowingly. "That's what happens when they make a science geek and bookworm roommates in college."

"Since you've known Sara a long time, you must know her parents. I didn't see anyone that resembled her at the rehearsal dinner or here tonight, for that matter."

Lauren hesitated for a moment. "Sara…she…she doesn't get along with her mom, and her dad's dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Al said sympathetically. "Do you know if she's having anyone walk her up the aisle?"

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Greg Sanders checked his reflection in the hallway mirror for the fiftieth time; he made sure his bow tie was still straight, and his hair still in place. He gritted his teeth together and opened his mouth; nothing stuck in them. While checking his tux for pieces of lint, he asked, "What's taking them so long? At this rate we'll be having the ceremony at dawn."

Nick Stokes shook his head. "It takes a while for women to get ready; even longer for their wedding day. Besides, Catherine is back there. No doubt she's putting as much make-up as she can on Sara."

"No doubt Sara's resisting."

The two men waited in a small room, outside the front entrance to the atrium. Greg finally turned from the mirror. "You nervous?"

"Not really."

"You have a pretty important job."

"I know that," Nick told him. "But after all of my sisters' weddings, I'm used to walking someone up the aisle. Why? Are you nervous?"

Greg smirked at the question. "Me? No way, man. Totally cool."

But truthfully, the former DNA lab rat felt rather anxious. Because his hands shook so badly, he stuffed them in his pockets. He looked down to check his shoe laces _again_. Nobody knew it, but he practiced his escorting duties so he knew he wouldn't trip. He didn't want to lose his job for ruining his boss' wedding day.

Just as Greg was about to check his watch, there was the sound of clicking heels on the wood floors. The group of women they had been waiting for finally arrived. A tall, silver-haired woman, dressed in an elegant burgundy suit led the way; she had the same penetrating blue eyes as her son. The team recently met Grissom's mother, Helen, at the rehearsal dinner. Despite both her deafness and her genetic relationship to Grissom, Helen had a talkative personality, and regaled them with stories about the artists from her gallery in California. Greg enjoyed when she told him he was a delightful, young man. In front of Grissom.

Following Helen was Catherine, Sara's bridesmaid. The blonde wore a sleeveless, long, dark red dress. It surprised Greg when he heard Sara had asked Catherine to be in the wedding party; the two weren't close. He did notice though, they had called a truce. Next to Catherine was the maid-of-honor, Angela. The dark haired woman was Sara's best friend from Tamales Bay; they had known each other for most of their lives. She too had on the same dress as Catherine. Sara trailed the two women, and she looked…well, beautiful.

Her shoulder length brown hair was curled into a more stylish fashion. The make-up made her eyes look even more warm and deep. The cowl neckline and the spaghetti straps of the white gown revealed her slightly freckled skin. Her dress hugged her body in all the right places (hey, he was still a man), and flowed to her feet, leaving a short train.

He didn't realize his mouth was hanging open until Sara approached him. "You okay Greg? You've been standing there with your tongue on the floor."

"Sara, you…you're-you're gorgeous," he managed.

Her face turned pink at his compliment. "Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself."

"I have to agree with him," Nick smiled. "You do look really nice."

Catherine added, "And that soon-to-be-husband of yours is rather handsome in tux."

"You saw him?" Sara asked.

"I had to help him with his tie." Catherine shook her head. "The man can give you every detail at a crime scene, but he can't figure out a bow tie. That job Sara, I happily hand over to you."

"Gee thanks."

Sara let out some deep breaths, and Greg noticed she was fidgeting with the bouquet. "You okay?"

"I'm…I'm a little nervous," she admitted.

"Don't worry, dear, you'll be fine," Helen said.

"If anyone has to be nervous, it's Grissom. I mean, he's about to marry the prettiest girl in Nevada." Greg corrected himself when he caught Catherine's mock-glare. "Well, one of the prettiest."

The group chatted for a while before the ceremony, trying to put Sara at ease. Greg cracked a few jokes, making her laugh. As the ceremony drew closer, he sent up a silent prayer hoping nothing happened when he went up the aisle. He peeked out the door, seeing the guests had taken their seats, and Grissom, Brass, and Warrick were already by the podium. "Looks like they're ready for us."

Everyone got assembled for their entrance; Sara stood at the end of line with Nick and Angela. Greg came up and said, "All right, Stokes, back off, back off. I get to be the last man to touch the former Ms. Sidle."

"He's all yours, girl," Nick smirked, and took his place to escort Helen Grissom.

Greg smiled proudly as he offered his arm to the bride. Soft classical music wafted through the doorway, and Nick and Helen led the line. As Catherine and Angela followed, Sara leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"What was that for?" he whispered.

"Thank you," was all she said.

Just before they walked out, Greg murmured, "I'm really happy for you. You deserve this."

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TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_A Definite Bet_

_Chapter 2_

_A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. And due to the sugar content in this chapter, please have insulin when you read this. Lots and lots of insulin_

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Jim Brass, the best man, smirked from his position next to Grissom, as he watched Greg escort the beautiful bride. The young criminalist stood straight and proud with his chin out, but his eyes glued to the podium, and the justice of the peace. He carefully placed one foot in front of the other; it seemed as if the kid recited "right foot, left foot" to himself.

The woman next to Greg was one Brass had only caught glimpses of in the past. The homicide captain mostly saw Sara at work, and she always wore a serious expression while she concentrated on her job. Now she had an ear-to-ear grin as she focused on the man standing to the right of him.

When the pair reached the front, she took Grissom's hand, but not before Greg kissed her on the forehead. Grissom and Sara turned to the justice of the peace, and the man began the ceremony.

"Friends and family, we have been invited here tonight to share with Gil and Sara a very important moment in their lives. In the time they have been together, their love and understanding of each other has grown and matured; now they have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife. If any person can show just cause why they may not be married—let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Brass watched several heads turn discreetly, and some not so discreetly to the back of the left row. If Ecklie noticed the many eyes on him, he didn't show it. The man in question remained expressionless. It shocked Brass to see Ecklie among the crowd. He had no idea why the assistant lab director was at the wedding, but feared there would be serious trouble he objected. Luckily, Ecklie didn't say anything, and there seemed to be a collective sigh of relief.

The justice of the peace went on read a selection of literature from an author Brass didn't recognize. Obviously it came from Grissom's extensive book collection. The official talked about the seriousness of the vows, and then allowed the bride and groom to recite their words. In a quiet voice, Grissom began:

"I, Gilbert, take you, Sara, to be my wife, my constant friend, my faithful partner, and my love from this day forward. In the presence of our friends and family, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow…"

As Grissom finished his short vows, Brass leaned over to Warrick and said under his breath, "This is the same man who watched bugs arrive on a dead pig carcass for five days." The tall man chuckled.

Sara started to speak with her eyes filled with tears. "Gilbert, I love you. You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage. I promise to encourage and inspire you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to you love you when life is easy and when it is hard..."

"And here is the girl," Brass heard Warrick whisper, "who will sift through stomach and intestinal contents for two hours and then go for pizza."

No doubt it was unusual to hear the two most introverted people in the police department be romantic. In front of people. Many people at that. But judging from the way they looked at each other, Grissom and Sara forgot there were others present.

Two years ago the current situation seemed improbable. After listening to him in the interrogation room, Brass thought Grissom would forever lead a life of solitude. Part of him understood why the entomologist was so reluctant to have a relationship; the risk to the career and the heart. But a larger part him couldn't grasp the idea of denying feelings for someone who so obviously wanted Grissom to be a part of her life. Now Grissom stood before a small group of individuals professing his love for Sara.

The couple exchanged rings, which put many people in tears, including Brass. Never had he heard such honesty and sincerity. And he had vast experience listening to lies and half-truths. Somehow, the notion of forever didn't sound so outrageous.

The justice finished out the ceremony with another reading, this time from Robert Frost. Brass felt proud of himself for at least being familiar with the author. Then came the infamous words, "By the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Now Brass wondered if the two would kiss in front of everyone. They weren't known for public displays of affection; he'd only seen them hold hands at the annual department dinner. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if they chose not to share something so private. But Grissom tilted his head and leaned closer to Sara. His newly banded left hand moved to her face, while her fingers clutched his elbow. Brass heard him, just barely, breathe "I love you" before their lips met in a long, sweet kiss. They broke apart laughing happily. "Ladies and gentleman, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Grissom." The room erupted in applause, and Jim Brass probably clapped the loudest. He watched as his good friend walk away with his new wife.

* * *

This couldn't be real; there was no way. The last forty minutes had to be a wonderful, vivid dream. Any moment she would wake up alone in her apartment. But the warm, gold ring she wore reminded Sara the ceremony actually happened. Not only was she married, but she was married to Gil Grissom. She felt as if she received the greatest gift she could ever hope for. She had been given a new life; one full of soft kisses, gentle hugs, and tender words of affection. 

They stood with their foreheads pressed together in the small room outside the atrium, simply reveling in their deeper bond. The silence was broken when Grissom murmured, "I have something for you."

Sara pulled her head back a little to see his remarkably blue eyes. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"I know." He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a long, thin black velvet box.

Her breath caught in her throat as she opened the case. Inside was a gleaming sterling silver watch, with a lilac colored face. "This is beautiful. Thank you," she whispered.

"There's an engraving on the back." She took the watch out and flipped it over. Their wedding date was written across the middle. Below it were the words _From your husband_.

Tears filled her eyes as she wrapped him in her arms. _I get to spend the rest of my life with him_, she realized. The thought flowed from her head all the way to her toes, making her skin tingle with delight. She pressed her lips to the corner of his jaw, then his eyelids, and finally the tip of his nose, causing them both to smile.

After holding each other for another long moment, she let go to place the watch in the box. "I thought we weren't going to spend any more money because of the wedding. How did you get this?"

He gave her one of his enigmatic expressions. "Do you know the odds of getting a royal flush are 1 in 649,750?"

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TBC

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The vows came from weddings(dot)about(dot)com. 


	3. Chapter 3

_A Definite Bet _

_Chapter 3_

_A/N: This chapter is for EllipsesBandit because today is her birthday. You also get a cup of coffee ;) And thank you to Miss Jazz for the story ideas._

_Disclaimer #2: I don't own Star Wars either, but damn would my life be good if I did. And if I owned both Star Wars and CSI…_

_

* * *

_"I bet he's here to gloat," Nick commented as he sipped some wine.

"Gloat?" Warrick said.

"Well, he obviously didn't say anything during the ceremony. He knew he couldn't stop this wedding."

"That's why you turned around when the justice asked if anyone had any objections."

The two men sat at one of the many tables in the restaurant for the reception. The amber colored walls of the private dining area glowed under the soft lights. Couples swayed together on the dance floor while others talked over their delicious dinners.

Nick shook his head in astonishment. "I still can't believe Grissom stepped down."

"Yeah," Warrick agreed. "But you know why he did it; so there'd be no conflict of interest in any cases they worked with him being Sara's boss _and _husband."

"Which is why I think Ecklie's here to gloat. You know he wants to say something about Catherine being in charge of the team now."

Warrick watched Ecklie talk with the sheriff, the head director, and Hodges on the other side of the room. "You'd think the man would have something better to do with his time than try to put down Griss on his wedding day."

Nick nodded his head. "You'd think."

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Greg carefully guided Sara in small circles on the smooth, wooden floor. After all those years, he was happy he didn't have to think about not stepping on her toes and where to place his hands. At the time, he hated visiting his grandfather every afternoon, but now he made a mental note to thank the man for the time and energy.

"All right I have to ask," Sara grinned, "how did you learn to dance?"

"Papa Olaf taught me," he answered as he twirled them about. Taking in her quizzical stare he added, "My grandfather."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When my junior high had its spring dance, my mom insisted that I needed dance lessons. She didn't want to worry about me stepping on the feet on some poor girl, so I was off to Papa Olaf's every day after school because he knew how to dance. Big hit at weddings, actually.

She chuckled, "I'll bet that was fun."

"Oh yeah," Greg rolled his eyes. "All my classmates were jealous of me as I waltzed in the living room with my grandfather."

"You got beat up for it didn't you?"

"Everyday." He paused for a moment. "But after watching me and my date, every girl wanted to dance with me that night."

Sara tried bite back another chuckle, but didn't succeed. "You had a date?"

"Yes Sara Grissom, hard as it is to believe, I had a date," he began, "She was my mother's friend's daughter. Whom they made go with me. Out of pity. Because I wasn't exactly popular…but Allison Hart was still my date!"

"Okay, okay," she said. "So Allison Hart thought you were graceful."

"Oh yeah. I didn't crush her feet, kept a friendly distance, and didn't try to grope her. Compared to the other baboons at the school, I was a perfect gentleman."

"I certainly can vouch for that. Papa Olaf taught you well."

A little red crept into Greg's face. "Thanks. He always told me dancing with a woman wasn't like picking tomatoes at the grocery store: they shouldn't be pinched, poked, or squeezed."

The current song ended, and some couples left, while others took their places. David now danced with Mrs. Robbins; Catherine shared the floor with Brass. Greg noticed Nick had gotten up from the table, and stood with Sofia, talking. Since no one asked to cut in, he continued on with Sara.

"And I didn't even trip you going up the aisle," he bragged.

"You have no problems on the dance floor, yet you were worried about tripping me, simply walking?"

He huffed sarcastically. "Well, yeah. If I had done something to make you fall, your hubby would've given me every crappy job for the next year. From decomp duty to crawling through sewers to matching a single match stick to thousands of those stupid little books! "

She replied, "You have incredible foresight, Greg."

He stopped their motions to look her straight in the eye for his next statement. "Um, well…thanks…For you know…choosing me."

"Well, you were first to figure us out."

* * *

Greg didn't want to upset the delicate balance in his arms, but there was no way he could knock on the door. Not without creating a huge mess. Maybe he could yell for her, but his loud voice might upset the neighbors. What to do, what to do. He looked down trying to figure out how to get into her apartment, when it came to him. Feet! Those appendages were attached for a reason. He started to kick the door with enough force to get her attention. 

"Just a second!" She called.

_Better be less than a second_, he thought. Any longer, and his arms would break from the weight of the bags he carried. Finally Sara opened the door. "Jeez Greg, did you have to bring the whole grocery store?"

After he stepped inside, she gratefully took a few bags from his aching limbs. "Hey I had to make sure we were properly stocked. I got root beer cream soda, tortilla chips and nacho dip, sour cream and onion potato chips, cheesy pizza rolls, and…"he trailed dramatically as he pulled out the last of the junk food, "vanilla ice cream and chocolate chip cookies for ice cream sandwiches."

"Good job. Our arteries will be clogged in no time."

"I try. Oh! And I brought you a present." He handed her a large paper bag with the thin handles.

She pulled out the contents and began to laugh. "I can't believe you got me--"

"Yup. Your very own Sega. Complete with Mortal Kombat and Sonic the Hedgehog. I figured you could use the extra practice, since I beat you every single time."

Sara narrowed her eyes, with her mouth in a straight line. "You just wait Greggo. I'm going kick your sorry little butt in Mortal Kombat."

"Promises, promises."

Greg discovered video games made an excellent diversion after particularly tough cases. He had spent hours in front of the television the day after they closed the burn case from last spring. There was something therapeutic about racing cars through virtual streets, or fighting through desert and water lands to rescue a princess.

After weeks of badgering, pestering, and practically stalking, he'd managed to coax Sara into coming to his apartment for video games. At first she just watched him bounce all over the couch with the controller. Then he offered her a turn, and he snickered a little too loudly when Sonic got killed five seconds into the game. When his left arm stopped throbbing, he showed her how the buttons made the character jump, duck, run, etc. Within a few weeks she became proficient on all his gaming systems, from Sega to PlayStation to Xbox. Now she could put up a fight before her Subzero got his head ripped off in their Mortal Kombat duels.

Sara blinked her eyes in disbelief when she finally looked at his attire. "You're wearing Scooby-Doo pajamas?"

Different expressions of the cartoon dog covered his cotton pants. The dark blue shirt had a single picture of Scooby-Doo grinning widely. "First off, these are _lounge pants_, not pajamas. And secondly, Scooby-Doo is the greatest, crime-fighting dog _ever_. And thirdly, I needed something comfy to wear since we're settling in for six hours of the _Star Wars_ trilogy."

"I take it your Darth Vader pants are dirty," she said jokingly.

"Yes," he sighed. "And look at you! You're not ready. Jeans and a blouse are not appropriate for a movie marathon. Go change. C'mon, move it." He started pushing her toward the hallway.

"All right fine," she turned to face him. "But you better have some of that food ready when I come out. And before you ask, I don't need any help undressing." He answered with a "darn it," and she disappeared in the bedroom.

Whistling happily, he started pouring the root beer in the glasses. He was thankful they had arranged to get together, because he hadn't seen much of her outside of work in the last three months. Their video game dates dwindled, and she didn't come to many breakfasts at the diner with Warrick, Nick, and himself. Her behavior had changed too. She no longer showed up at the lab two hours before shift. She also didn't max out on overtime.

Surely she's dating somebody, but whom? Sara had yet to give up the identity of her mystery man, even though he asked her constantly. Maybe the guy was a cop or someone from the lab. No one knew. Greg opened the refrigerator to put the soda away when he saw a stack of agar plates sitting in the back. He took out a couple plates, which had bacterial species on the labels.

There was only one person he knew that would keep experiments at home. Mystery solved.

Whoa. Sara was dating Grissom. Grissom was dating Sara. Definitely strange. He always thought the resident bug expert considered women to be another biological species to be studied. Obviously Grissom considered Sara to mean more if he left his experiments in her apartment.

Despite him collecting blood from new workers and knowing the origin of hot dogs, Grissom was a good guy, who never treated anyone with disrespect, not even suspects. The bossman clearly made her happy. Besides, how he could fault the guy who loved a woman who sometimes smelled like a rotting carcass.

Greg hastily put the agar plates back when he heard Sara walking from her room. She wore Snoopy pants and a Harvard t-shirt. He headed to the couch with the sodas and chips. "You ready to travel to 'a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away?'"

* * *

"Now how did you know I knew? 

"Every time we'd hang out, you'd always ask about the guy I was seeing. Then that afternoon we watched _Star Wars_ you stopped. I wondered why, especially when left my apartment with a stupid, little smirk on your face. I looked in the 'fridge and some of the plates had been moved. I knew you found them."

"You weren't worried that I'd 'accidentally' say something," he replied.

"No, and for two reasons," she said in that voice when she taught him something at a crime scene. "The first being you knew Gil and I would make your life a living hell if you blabbed. And second, when we would tell everyone, you'd want to brag that you were the first to figure out we were together, which you did."

Half-serious, half teasingly he asked, "And chose me to walk you down the aisle because of that?"

"Greg, I chose you because you stood up to Catherine when I got suspended. Because you invited me over for pizza and video games after we found Nick. And because on the longest, most laborious cases, you can still make me laugh."

He smiled at her statement, and just as he started to lead Sara again, someone tapped his shoulder. He turned to see Grissom standing there. "May I?" he asked the young man, gesturing to his wife.

"Of course." Greg looked back to Sara. "We'll talk later Griss."

"I hate to tell you, but you're not the first to say that to me," she said.

"And I won't be the last."

---------------------------

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_A Definite Bet _

_Chapter 4_

_A/N: For everyone who has reviewed, you get a big slice of cake :) Thank you for all of your wonderful comments!_

_

* * *

_Ahhh, cake; was there really anything better in life? Sometimes, all a woman needs is a large piece of cake and a fine glass of wine. At least, those were Catherine Willows' thoughts as she took another bite of the delectable dessert. Grissom and Sara had chosen wisely: a white cake with a raspberry filling to complement the chocolate buttercream frosting.

The couple stunned their friends and colleagues when they not only cut the cake in the traditional manner, but also as they fed each other a small piece. When it was Sara's turn, Grissom muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "feed me woman." And Sara just smiled…well, smiled before she smeared the fluffy mixture all over his lips and chin. Grissom took the retaliation in stride; he started to laugh. This again shocked everyone because he never laughed. Not at Greg's antics or Brass' cynical comments or Hodges' attempts to cover his age. Nothing. Amused by her husband's response, Sara chuckled too. Catherine had always thought Grissom was the most intelligent man she knew, but even more so, because he married the one person who could make him laugh.

After the plates had been passed around, Catherine sat with Brass, Nick, and Greg as her daughter Lindsey showed her pictures from the wedding on their new digital camera. The many images included Catherine and Grissom standing together after the ceremony, Warrick dancing with Jacqui, and Nick and Lindsey sitting next to each other, with his arm around the girl. Catherine quietly teased her daughter about that picture being Lindsey's favorite. Lindsey's eyes opened wide, and she gritted her teeth. "Mawwwwm." She obviously didn't want Nick to hear their conversation.

Catherine smirked, then asked "Do you think you've taken enough pictures?"

"No way," Lindsey shook her head. "There's a ton of memory still on here, and I need another good one of Uncle Gil and Sara." Lindsey craned her head to the right, as if looking for the newlyweds. She spotted Sara, and waved the brunette over to the table.

As Sara approached the small group, Lindsey put the camera to her eye. "Say cheese!" The flash hit Sara's unprepared face and she stopped in her tracks, blinking her eyes, trying to regain her eyesight.

"Thanks Lindsey. I didn't need to see anyway," Sara rubbed her eyes again.

The young teenager giggled. "Sorry. Just everyone said I should get as many pics of you as I can, since the next time we see you in a dress will be when a snowstorm hits Las Vegas."

Sara crossed her arms over her chest. "Really? And just who said that?" She looked at the residents of the table. Everyone smiled innocently and avoided her stare, Catherine included. Before they left the house earlier that evening, Catherine had told Lindsey to get a picture with a date and time stamp so they could document the one occasion her colleague wore a dress.

"Now how could you accuse us of saying something like that?" Greg answered, straight faced. "We're your friends. We would _never _say those things."

"Right Greg. You're so convincing, I almost believe you," Sara told him, equally sarcastic.

"Before you disown us, you have to answer the million dollar question," Brass said.

"And that is…" Sara prompted.

"Why is Ecklie here?"

"I have no idea. He hasn't said anything to me or Gil."

"C'mon, Sara," Nick motioned his hand to her. "You invited him."

She drew her shoulders up. "Doesn't mean I know why he's here. I didn't think he'd show up."

"But you guys did invite him," Brass said with his chin resting in his hand.

"Yeah…we…did," Sara reluctantly admitted.

"Isn't Ecklie that skinny, bald-headed weasel that made Mom and you guys fill out those crappy, five page evaluations?" Lindsey asked.

"Lindsey!" Catherine exclaimed.

"Whaaat! That's what you said when you were talking to Jim on the phone."

Catherine thought Lindsey had made it past the age where she repeated everything her mother said. Apparently, she was wrong.

Sara chuckled along with the others. "Actually…that is a rather accurate description of Ecklie."

"Well, if he's all those things," Lindsey pointed out, "why invite him?"

"Ask your mother. It was her idea."

Catherine swallowed the last bit of cake, and shook her head. "Hey, all I said was, it would look good if he got an invitation to show you two didn't hold a grudge. That you had moved on. And despite him being-," she didn't want use the earlier portrayal her daughter gave, "_Ecklie_, he's still our boss. Sometimes you have to bite your tongue and swallow your pride." And Catherine knew that all too well.

A few weeks ago, Grissom had called her into his office for a private meeting. He had informed Catherine she would be supervisor of graveyard, effective the day he and Sara left for their honeymoon. Dumbfounded, she asked if he decided to quit. He said no, but explained that he had to step down to prevent defense attorneys from challenging his and Sara's cases because of their combined personal and professional relationship. Ecklie had approved the decision, so all she had to do was accept, which she happily did.

However, Ecklie had later made it quite clear he could have vetoed Grissom's choice for the supervisor predecessor. She knew his threat was in lieu of her outburst over the teams' evaluations of Grissom and Sara. The highly irritated subordinate in her wanted to lash out, but that sort of action would cost her the promotion. Instead the wiser and more mature woman prevailed. Catherine promised she would approach him in a more professional manner when it came to any problems, but she would not tolerate any more secretive actions against staff members. After a few quiet, tension filled moments, he proceeded with the appropriate paperwork.

"That is true Cath, and those reasons are about niney-five percent why he got an invitation," Sara said.

"What's the other five percent?" Greg inquired

Sara smiled thoughtfully. "The other five percent was the 'grownup' part of me that wanted Conrad Ecklie to know that after all the time he stayed at the lab watching us, his 'professional behavior for the good of the lab' lectures, and those worthless evaluations, this marriage was going to happen, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it."

"No, you don't hold a grudge at all," Nick smirked. "I bet it was a joy mailing that particular envelope."

"Yeah, but it would've been better if Gil had let me frame it for Ecklie," Sara deadpanned.

"What didn't I let you do?" Grissom walked up behind his wife and put his arm around her waist as Nick, Catherine, Brass, and Greg snickered while Lindsey rolled her eyes. Shaking her head with a grin Sara answered, "Nothing."

Lindsey immediately started to prepare the camera. "Great! Now I can get a nice of picture of you two." At Grissom's raised eyebrow, Lindsey pouted and gave her best puppy dog eyes. "Please, Uncle Gil."

Sara turned her head slightly to face him. "What's wrong? You don't want to take a picture with your wife?"

"She might be upset if I was in a picture with you instead."

"Har har," Sara elbowed him in the ribs.

Grissom pulled Sara closer, and placed his cheek next to hers. "Go ahead, Lindsey."

Lindsey stood, posed with the camera. "Say 'You complete me.'" The group laughed when the couple's smiles transformed into 'hell no are we saying that' expressions.

"Just kidding. All right, 1…2…3." The flash went off, and camera captured the image of the blissful pair beaming, standing cheek to cheek with Sara's hand over the hand Grissom had resting on her waist.

"There's the happy couple now."

Everyone turned their heads when they heard Ecklie's voice. Grissom and Sara pulled apart, probably from the shock of him addressing them. Catherine could have sworn she heard Nick and Greg's jaws hit the floor.

"May I speak to you two for a moment?" he politely requested.

"Sure, Conrad," Grissom answered in a confused tone. He gestured his hand forward, and Ecklie led Grissom and Sara away from the table. Five heads swiveled to watch them leave.

"Oh to be a fly on the wall for that conversation," Catherine commented.

---------------------------

While she had been surprised to see him at the reception, Sara had decided not to obsess over Ecklie's presence. There wasn't any reason to be melodramatic. Ecklie could no longer bother Grissom and Sara because they had proved they could behave in an appropriate manner at the lab, and the department didn't have a policy against inter-office relationships. Plus, the assistant lab director did receive an invitation. Up until a few minutes ago, he hadn't said a word to her or Grissom, and that didn't bother her in the least.

The three of them stopped in an empty area, away from the other tables. Sara caught glimpses of several of the guests looking in their direction. She paid them little attention as Ecklie began to speak.

"First off, I wanted to congratulate you, Gil, on your new position. Director Michelson informed me that he put you in charge of research and development."

"Thank you, Conrad," Grissom replied. "Although I was confused to hear the news from him since he said it was your idea."

Ecklie avoided the statement. "I'm just pleased there's someone to research new equipment and techniques. Hopefully we can bring the lab into the number one spot."

_You mean Gil will do all the work, and you'll take the credit_, Sara thought. She had happily shared Grissom's enthusiasm when he had told her about his new position. For Grissom, it meant he'd get to spend more time running experiments and less time in administrative meetings.

Grissom answered in an even tone, "I'm not making any promises."

"I just want you to do the best that you can." She hoped Ecklie didn't notice her roll her eyes. It was sickening how good the man could be at politics.

Ecklie continued, "I also wanted to thank you both for your continued efforts. I know the last few months have been trying."

_Trying!_ Sara yelled in her mind. _He's one to talk. He was the reason why those months were "trying."_

"We wouldn't give anything else, but one-hundred percent at the lab." Grissom squeezed her hand and smiled at her. That same triumphant smile he gave whenever he finished on of his crossword puzzles or when he beat her at Quiddler.

"And I never expect less from either of you." He looked at his watch. "I have to be going, but I wanted to give you this." From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a cream colored envelope and handed it to Sara.

"I didn't want it to get lost among the other presents," he said.

For the briefest instant, Sara regarded him as if he was about to give her a poisonous insect. "Thank you…Conrad." The words felt clumsy and foreign in her mouth because she had never thanked Ecklie before. For anything.

Ecklie then made the strangest, most unusual gesture; he placed his hand forward as if he wanted her to shake it. She slowly took his hand, and he gave it a quick pump. "Congratulations, Sara."

She looked at him in disbelief as he made the same gesture to Grissom. "Congratulations, Gil. Good luck to the both of you." And with that he left.

"What the hell was that about?" Sara asked as soon as she saw Ecklie walk through the doors.

Grissom didn't answer her. He kept staring straight ahead, with a small frown and slightly narrowed eyes. Sara had seen this look at the lab and out in the field a few times. She knew he was trying to get the situation make sense, but having little success doing so. "Maybe…maybe…that was his way of apologizing," he finally offered.

"You don't believe that any more than I do."

----------------------------

"So what did Ecklie say?" Catherine posed to the question to the couple after they walked back to the table. They appeared as confused as ever, which quashed Greg's theory about Ecklie reassigning them to different shifts.

"He…" Sara stopped, as if she had trouble forming the next words, "…congratulated us. I mean, honestly said congratulations. Not one snide word from his lips."

Greg didn't seem convinced. "Yeah right, Sara. What did he really say?"

"I'm serious Greg! He even gave us a card." She showed them the neatly labeled envelope.

"Even I wouldn't expect that from him," Catherine admitted. "What does it say?"

Sara opened the card, and read aloud the generic, not too sentimental wedding greeting. She stopped reading, gaping for a moment before saying it was signed, _Best Wishes, Conrad Ecklie_.

"And that's not all," she extracted a green, plastic card. "He even gave us a hundred dollar gift card to Barnes and Noble."

"I guess there is some good in Ecklie after all." Greg shrank back as seven pairs of eyes stared him down.

----------------------

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_A Definite Bet_

_Chapter 5_

_A/N: Sorry about the delay! I tried to finish this before I left for vacation, but unfortunately it didn't happen. I hope you all have enjoyed reading this and I hope you like the ending. Thank you all very much for taking time to review; I appreciate all of them :)_

_Fair warning: This bit contains a large dose of tooth-decaying sugar. I'm a fangirl. It's what I do._

_

* * *

_Grissom stood with a glass of champagne in his hand talking to Brass and Al. The homicide captain and the chief medical examiner were giving the new husband marriage advice; some serious, some not. Grissom smirked and shook his head at Al's latest remark when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Hodges.

"I was just leaving, and I wanted to congratulate you. It was a nice wedding, and I'm sure you and Sara will be very happy." Something in Hodges' voice didn't seem quite sincere.

"I'd certainly bet on it," Grissom answered lightly.

Hodges turned slightly pale at Grissom's words. He fumbled with his neck tie for moment as if it had become too tight. "Yes, well…um..." He cleared his throat. "I also wanted to volunteer my services for your R and D work when you come back. I wouldn't mind collaborating with you on some projects. With our combined knowledge, we can easily get the Las Vegas crime lab into the number one spot."

A small smile crept onto Grissom's face. "That's good, because I actually have a job for you. I'm going to need you to take decomposition samples for a new study."

Hodges swallowed. "Decomposition samples?"

"From four bodies in different settings. One in sewer pipe, one in a shed, one under water, and the last body will be in a car. The body farm has been kind enough to set up the cadavers for me. All you need to do is take tissue samples every other day over the period of a month."

The trace analyst opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He continued to stare at the former nightshift supervisor with wide eyes until Grissom said, "What's wrong? You look like someone who made a really stupid bet."

After taking a deep breath through his nose, Hodges opened and closed his mouth several times, much like a sea bass. He quickly pulled himself together, and he managed a rather tight expression. "Nothing's wrong. I'll, um…I'll be glad to help."

"Thank you." Grissom's smile grew wider.

Hodges said "goodnight," before he scurried away. When Grissom turned back to the other two men Al asked, "What was that about?"

"'A fool and his money are soon parted…'"

* * *

David Phillips waited twenty-eight minutes before he got his opportunity to talk to Sara. The reception had wound down, and the guests left giving their best wishes to the bride and groom. Every time he wanted to speak with her though, another friend would beat him to it. But after she said good-bye to a few of the female lab technicians, he hurried over to where she stood by the doors. 

"Thanks for inviting Rachel and me. We had a great time, and your wedding was really beautiful."

"Thank you David," she replied warmly. A few seconds of silence passed between them. "What? No good luck like everyone else has told us?" Sara teasingly said.

He just shrugged. "Why? You and Grissom don't need luck. You two will be fine." Earlier in the evening, David stepped out on the expansive patio outside the dining room for a breath of fresh air. When he heard a soft giggle, he walked around a colorful flower bed, and spotted Grissom and Sara in the shadows. Grissom had one arm around her back while his other hand rested over the hand Sara had on his shoulder. The pair danced in small circles which struck David as odd because no music could be heard. It wasn't until he'd noticed Grissom's lips pressed against her ear that he'd figured out why she had giggled. Sara's husband was singing to her. David had smiled to himself, and left the couple to their private moment.

She smiled brightly at him. "That's really sweet of you to say that."

"Umm…thanks." He stared at his feet for a minute, hoping the pink would disappear from his cheeks. "Besides, he doesn't have a problem taking your advice."

"What advice?"

"He dropped the glasses, lost the lab coat, and grew some scruff."

"Not exactly. He still has the glasses and lab coat," she laughed. "But he only gets a D plus for cute," she added with a wink.

"Probably the one time I will rank above Grissom," he said jokingly. His expression then turned more serious. "Congratulations, Sara. I have no doubt you and Grissom will have a wonderful life together."

Sara surprised David when she pulled him into a hug, but he happily returned the gesture. They chatted for a few more minutes before he and Rachel left. As they walked through the doors, David turned and caught a glimpse of Sara kissing Grissom's cheek.

Hodges was definitely going to lose.

* * *

With the last of their friends gone, Grissom sought out his wife. After talking with just about everyone that evening, he eagerly awaited spending some time alone with Sara. While planning the wedding, they had decided that staying at a fancy hotel before the honeymoon just wasn't necessary. Instead the two opted to go back home for their first night as a married couple. 

He found her on the patio near the blooming honeysuckle plants. Once he wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug, he trailed soft kisses up her neck to her ear. "So are you ready to spend all of tomorrow in bed with your husband?"

"Yeah, but what are you going to be doing?" She whispered back.

He chuckled lightly before nuzzling the warm skin of her neck. The faint fragrant smell of her vanilla perfume invaded his senses, traveled to his brain, and etched itself in his memory. The deliciously sweet aroma would forever be associated with the finest day of his life.

They held hands as they waited for the valet to bring them the car. The full moon illuminated the ground with a silvery glow. Crickets chirped their contended song in the darkness. Just behind Sara, the sunshine yellows, bold reds, and cobalt blues of the flowers provided a brilliant backdrop against her white dress.

"So now that we're officially married, do you feel any different?" she asked.

"My left hand feels a little heavier." He gave her a crooked smile and a little shrug. His gaze shifted from her face to one of the lamps that could be seen over her left shoulder.

Her mouth opened to an exasperated sigh. "I thought things would be different now. I mean, when do we feel this whole marriage thing? The rings are supposed to represent a deep commitment, so…"

Grissom barely heard her rant as he concentrated on the small beam of light. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to determine the identity of the object of his attention. A few moments later, after much thinking, he finally recognized the little creature. Of course, that was also the time Sara chose to wave her hands in his line of vision.

"Gil? Hello? What the heck are you staring at?"

"Stars shine brightly in the night; making marriage and love seem so right; and _Hyalophora cercropia_ finds the light." She turned to see what had distracted him. A tawny-colored moth fluttered around the light in the garden.

Her melodious laughter sounded sweet against his ears. Placing both hands on either side of his face, she kissed him slowly and forcefully. Her mouth still tasted like chocolate and raspberries, and her lips felt softer than the wedding cake's frosting. When she brushed her thumbs against his cheeks, his heart fluttered. He would never admit her kisses left him absolutely no higher order brain function.

Not all of Grissom's senses were distracted as he heard the valet politely clear his throat. The pair gently separated, and Grissom took the keys to the jet black Corvette from the young man. Nick, Warrick, Greg, and Brass had presented the couple with the rental sports car before they left for the reception. The men, particularly Greg, insisted Grissom and Sara needed the proper ride for their wedding. Warrick informed them to drop the vehicle off at the rental garage in the airport when they left for their honeymoon.

"I get to drive this to the airport on Monday," she told him once they were inside and buckled into the seats.

"Yes dear," came his retort.

For the first time in several years, Grissom and Sara were actually going to use their vacation days. They both had taken three weeks off for their honeymoon. Their first destination was going to be in South Carolina at a Victorian home bed-and-breakfast. A small, secluded beach house they had bought in California was planned for the second week. Afterward, they had chosen to stay at the townhouse to relish in the newness of spending the rest of their lives together.

After Grissom pulled into a parking space at their home, he exited the car and went to open Sara's door. After she got out, he moved to place one arm around her back to pick her up, but she quickly backed away from him. "The carrying bride over the threshold thing is one tradition we can forget about."

He cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"Do you know the origin of that tradition?" She rolled her eyes when he smiled knowingly. "In days of 'marriage by capture' the bride wasn't going to go peacefully in the new home with her husband so the man had to drag or carry her across the threshold. A little too caveman for me. I'm perfectly capable of getting in there on my own."

"There are other reasons behind carrying the bride," he said as he approached her slowly. And in one swift motion he swept her up in his arms. Sara playfully struggled, but Grissom kept a tight hold.

She must have realized that he wasn't going to let go because she gave up and put her arms around his neck. "They had better be good reasons," she informed him somewhat seriously.

"One tradition says the new wife must enter her home by the main door, and to avoid bad luck, she must never trip or fall. So her husband must carry her." He started walking toward the front door

"What happens if you trip?" She asked before she pressed her lips to his neck.

Halting in his tracks, he looked at her bright, gap-toothed smile. "I'm watching where I'm going." He continued walking and speaking. "Another reason for carrying the bride comes from the same belief that gave the idea of strewing the aisle with flower petals. It was believed the bride was susceptible to evil spirits. The husband provides a protective layer between the floor and the bride." He skillfully unlocked and opened the door without dropping her.

She whispered," So basically you're protecting me from ground monsters."

"Always, Sara," he promised softly. Taking a deep breath, Grissom crossed over the threshold with his wife and closed the door behind them.

----------------------

The End.


End file.
